Page 42 of Reclaimed Dreams

Moments later, Enzo appeared, bearing a tray of confections.

“What are those?” Natalie asked.

“The first pizzelles of Christmas.” Enzo glared a warning at Frankie and Fi, whose ears had perked up at the mention of the treat. “Don’t even think about it, you two.” He turned back to Natalie. “Someone once told me that I looked at you like the first pizzelle of Christmas, hot off the griddle. That’s when I knew this was serious. So it seems only fitting that you get the first this year.”

Natalie grinned and took exaggerated care in picking one and biting in. “Mmm. That’s delicious.”

“Come here and give me a taste.”

Dom took the tray and set it down on the coffee table while Enzo kissed his woman, so the horde could comfortably descend. He claimed his spot on the couch and sat back to watch the fray.

Jo came in with a tray of sliced panettone and coffee cakes, and set it down on a side table before sitting down next to him on the couch. Dom looked at her in surprise. It was the first time she’d willingly sat so close to him in a very long time. Her nearness felt like a gift in and of itself. He’d missed this physical nearness to her with an ache he’d dared not look at too closely.

But when Jo dropped a hand on his knee, he put his arm around her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her temple before wiping his eyes again, gratitude flowing through his body, bringing deadened nerve endings tingling back to life.

Christmas miracles were unfolding everywhere he looked, and the sweet scent of hope was in the air.

42 years ago

Jo sat on the floor of their apartment surrounded by tiny wrapped packages and homemade Christmas cards. It was the last day of school before break and also Christmas Eve, and the world felt magical. She sipped the celebratory glass of prosecco she’d poured herself in honor of making it through her first semester of teaching. Her students had sent her off with lovely little gifts as well, which made the space under the tree feel festive and bright.

As for proper presents, she and Dom had agreed to homemade gifts this year. The August Impala episode had been the tip of the iceberg of disasters. A sprained ankle had slowed Dom down at work for a bit, and they’d gotten behind on their credit cards. Jo had also had to buy a bunch of supplies for her classroom and that had eaten up what little savings they’d managed to scrape together. Back at zero, they were being responsible this Christmas and paying down debts instead of buying big gifts.

But Jo was determined to make their first Christmas together memorable. She’d pulled out the aluminum foil and was folding origami stars to decorate the Charlie Brown tree she’d salvaged from the Christmas tree lot that was closing down for the season. They didn’t have any real ornaments, so Jo was going old-school. The big bowl of popcorn was waiting to get threaded into garland. Jo was also eating said popcorn with her prosecco, so it might be a short garland, but it would be festive, damn it.

“What are you up to?” Dom asked, surprising her. She wondered how much wine she’d had if she missed hearing her husband come in behind her.

“Decorating the tree!” She handed him the biggest foil star she’d crafted. “Here, you’re the tallest so you get to put the star on top.”

“The tree is only three feet tall, Jo.”

“And I am currently two feet tall, and I have no intention of standing up. Go ahead, big guy.”

Dom set down the plastic bag he’d carried in next to her knee and gingerly took the star. With exaggerated care, he crimped the foil around the very tip and stood back, arms spread wide in triumph.

Jo clapped and laughed outrageously. “Bravo! My hero!”

Dom took a mock bow and snagged a handful of popcorn on the follow-through.

“Hey! That’s for the garland.”

“Sure it is. That’s why the bowl is two-thirds empty and the string has ten kernels on it.” He crunched his booty loudly.

Jo turned her attention to the bag. “What’s this?”

“Just a little something I picked up.”

“I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t buy any presents this year.”

‘It’s not a present. I went by my mom’s house on the way home and asked for a string of the bubble lights. It’s not Christmas without them. She added a few ornaments too.”

Jo started to tear up as she opened the bag and picked through the assorted decorations.

“Babe, I’ll take them back. Forget I said anything.” Dom reached to take the bag back out of her grasp, but she clutched it to her chest.

“Don’t you dare! That was so sweet of her! I’ll have to say thank you at dinner tomorrow night. I should ask my mom for some when we see my parents in the morning. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue,” she said pointing to the blue bubble light. “Looks like we’ve hit the highlights. Let’s get these on the tree and heating up. If you can take over trimming, I’ll go start dinner. And no peeking!”

“That’s a deal. I’m starving.”

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